You're A Shadow Now, No More Light
by blacksouledbutterfly
Summary: The sound of her disbelief and her tears had nearly been enough to make my heart start to break.


The sound of her disbelief and her tears had nearly been enough to make my heart start to break. Despite it all I had somehow managed to find myself caring about this rich slip of a girl with her mischievous eyes and her bouncy personality. She had always treated me as though I were just like her when it was as far from the truth that you could get. It had only been appreciation at first, and perhaps mild fascination.

But by now I could honestly say that a part of me loved the girl who lay bloody and cooling on the forest floor. It wasn't the same kind of love that I had for Abby, it wasn't as strong but it was love all the same. It had taken a hold of me when I wasn't looking, had snuck up behind me and dug its claws into my heart, writing her name next to Abby's, not quite as brightly as the other name but there nonetheless.

I hadn't expected it to be so hard to kill her. Most of them had been easy. Until now the only one that had upset me was J.D. and I couldn't dwell on that. But something about her disbelief, the look of betrayal in her eyes, in the way she had fought me and cried and tried to crawl away from me on her hands and knees across the branches and stones just so she could get away from me had made my heart break a little bit.

And when she stopped struggling and her breathing started to fade I felt I owed it to her to lower her down to the ground as gently as I could; I felt like I could give her at least that and to be honest I didn't want to let her go just yet. I kept her cradled in my arms like I could take her to somewhere else, to another place where none of this had happened; like I could take her to another world where I could have loved her enough; where I loved her just as much as she loved me. If that were possible she would deserve at least that.

It had made me feel weak to admit to my father that she was harder than the others but she had been; it was almost hurtful to hear him say that she had served her purpose as though she wasn't a person I had actually cared for but he was right. Her purpose had been to help me get Abby and everyone to the island and that had been accomplished, hadn't it? Yes, Trish had accomplished what she was supposed to accomplish; she played the part that she didn't even know she was playing very, very well. but for me she had been a chess piece that I had wished I could keep safe and locked away in some place that this all couldn't touch her simply because she had been rather good to me over the years. (Though I would never admit it to my father there were several people on this island I wouldn't have minded letting live were it at all possible simply because I had nothing against them, no reason to actually wish them dead. But they all had to go because the island had to be empty. It had to be eradicated. And I couldn't leave anyone to come looking for Abby and I. They all had to go, every last one of them.)

Now as my father and I move away from her bloodied body so that whoever comes to investigate the shot he let off (it wouldn't bode well for anyone to see me standing over her body; wouldn't bode well for anyone to see me with him) I think about that day on the boat when we came to the island. I think of Trish's excitement over the wedding; I think of the way my heart did a little dance when I saw Abby heading towards us looking so nervous about going home but braving it for me, only for me. I think of Trish's cousin tied to the propeller blades and how when the boat started he was hacked to pieces and wonder if anyone suspects anything, if they wonder why Ben never showed up; wonder if Trish figured out that I had killed him before we ever got to the island.

I look back at her, eyes open but unseeing.

I really do wish I could have given her that wedding she so desperately wanted. But, in the end, you can't always get what you want, can you?

My father will find that out soon enough.


End file.
